


Young Gamwell

by Maeve_of_Winter



Series: A Study in Scarlett [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-26 22:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: After a lifetime away, Cissie finally comes home.





	Young Gamwell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chase_acow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/gifts).



"Give over, I say!" quoth Robin in a fume. "My coat hath been dusted enough already, without aid of thine." Then, turning to the stranger, he said, "What may be thy name, good fellow?"

"My name is Gamwell," answered the other.

"Ha!" cried Robin, "is it even so? I have near kin of that name. Whence camest thou, fair friend?"

"From Maxfield Town I come," answered the stranger. "There was I born and bred, and thence I come to seek my mother's young brother, whom men call Robin Hood. So, if perchance thou mayst direct me--"

"Ha! Will Gamwell!" cried Robin, placing both hands upon the other's shoulders and holding him off at arm's length. "Surely, it can be none other! I might have known thee by that pretty maiden air of thine--that dainty, finicking manner of gait. Dost thou not know me, lad? Look upon me well."

"Now, by the breath of my body!" cried the other, "I do believe from my heart that thou art mine own Uncle Robin. Nay, certain it is so!" And each flung his arms around the other, kissing him upon the cheek.

— _The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood_

* * *

Cissie paused at the front door, one hand on the knob. With the way she suddenly froze in mid-motion, leaning forward slightly to push the door open, her loose blonde hair swinging back over her shoulders at the abrupt halt, it almost looked like she was playing a game of statues.

“Is it locked?” Ollie asked, nodding at the door. “Here, I have a key.”

A moment passed before Cissie responded; instead, she turned to look at him, her blue gaze flicking up and down. She did that sometimes, he’d come to notice, sizing people up before speaking to them, checking to be sure she knew all she could about them before she went ahead with her answer.

The expression on her face was unreadable when she replied. “No. It’s open.” Twisting the knob, she pushed the door open a few inches, demonstrating that it was unlocked.

Ollie set down the box he was carrying of Cissie’s archery gear—she had more gear than actual clothing—so he could put a hand on her shoulder. “Everything okay?” he asked gently.

She sighed, looked at him with eyes far older than her years. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re bringing into your home. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of Pollyanna who’s going to be all sunshine and smiles no matter how hard life kicks me in the teeth. I’m damaged goods, and a lot of the cracks are either still visible or festering wounds. You sure that’s what you want?”

Oliver squeezed her shoulder. “What I  _ want _ is the daughter that I  _ have _ ,” he said firmly. “That’s you, Cissie.”

The look on Cissie’s face was skeptical, but there was something else there, too—nervousness. Insecurity. “You say that now, and I’ll be honest: it’s a pretty fantasy. But I need something real, something concrete. The only parent I’ve ever had only cared about my public image. She didn’t give a damn about  _ me _ . And I want—”

Cissie’s voice caught, and she looked away for a moment to collect herself.

“When I walk into this house,” she said, her voice lower and rougher than it had been before, “I want you to know what you’re getting into. And I want to know what  _ I’m _ getting.” She levelled Ollie an even stare. “I want to know if you’re going to be here for me when the going gets tough, or if you’re the type of parent to get going yourself once you actually realize I have issues.”

Ollie couldn’t help a small smile at that. “Kid, I’ve known you had issues from the start,” he told her reassuringly. “No one talks the way you did to Superman, Wonder Woman,  _ and _ Batman unless they’re either stupid or they’ve got a real hate-on for authority. And you sure as hell aren’t stupid.”

“Eh.” Cissie shrugged. “I dabble,” she admitted.

“We all do,” Ollie acknowledged. “And I’ll be honest: I can be stupid, too, sometimes. I’ll tell you that right now. I have been in the past. You met Roy, didn’t you?”

Cissie nodded. “Yeah. Only for a little while, though.”

Ollie took a deep breath. “He’s my son. I adopted him when he was a kid and raised him till he went off to make his own way in the world. But years ago, when I was younger and stupider and needed to reconsider my parenting and he was only a few years older than you, I made some idiot decisions about him. He needed me, and I pushed him away because I thought it made me a bad parent for him to have the problems that he did.” He specifically didn’t mention that Roy’s problem had been addiction; that was Roy’s choice to share with Cissie or not.

“I realized almost right away how selfish I was being, how moronic it was to turn away my own kid because I didn’t feel he’d lived up to my standards. And I made a promise to myself to never do that to him again. And when I met your other brother, Connor, I again that I wouldn’t do that to him, either. And I’ve already have made the same promise to myself about you kid.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” he went on. “I’m not that guy who buys a puppy only to send it to the pound when he realizes how much work it is. I had to meet your social worker before I won custody of you, you know. I got most of the details of what your mother did to you, and I’m sure there’s probably more. I know about the shooting that you witnessed at your school. I even got those files from Red Tornado and read up on how that villain stalked you and shot you in that alleyway.”

Cautiously, somewhat awkwardly, Ollie put a rough hand on Cissie’s cheek, marvelling, not for the first time, how much her features resembled her own. 

“I may not know you,” he told her gently. “But I know about you, and even with everything I know, I want you to be here. I want you to be my daughter. I know festering wounds take time to heal. I know they’ll leave scars when they eventually do. But that doesn’t change my mind. It won’t change my mind going forward.” He grasped her shoulder tighter. “You can count on that.”

Cissie considered him for a moment, and then shrugged, smiling slightly. “What the hell. A parent with some self-awareness is better than anything I’ve ever had before.” And then she surprised him by pulling him into a rib-crushing hug.

Ollie hugged her back, a faint outrage mounting within him, one he’d felt from almost the moment he’d discovered Cissie was daughter. He should have been there to give Cissie this kind of support she needed before now. He should have been able to raise her, to protect her from her lunatic of a mother. He should have been able to prevent her from getting as grief in her life as she had.

But woulda-shoulda-coulda didn’t matter, not when Cissie was here in his arms, finally a part of his life, like she was meant to be all along. She might have been wounded, she might have been damaged, but she was his daughter, dammit, and nothing in universe or beyond could make him give up on her.

There was movement from inside the door and Dinah appeared on the threshold. Seeing the two of them hugging, she glanced worriedly at Ollie.

_ It’s okay, _ he mouthed at her.  _ She’s fine. _

A relieved smile formed on Dinah’s face, and she made a point of rattling the doorknob slightly as she opened the door further.

“Hello, Cissie,” she said warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Cissie managed to offer Dinah a smile. “I’m glad you think so. I can’t promise much, but I’ll make an effort to be a better guest than I was last time.”

“You’re not a guest,” Dinah corrected her gently. “You’re family.”

Oliver gripped Cissie’s shoulder. “That’s right.”

“In that case, I’ll do my best to stick around longer this time,” Cissie commented ruefully.

Dinah laughed. “Glad to hear it,” she replied playfully.

She put one arm around Cissie’s shoulders, and Oliver put another, and together, the three of them walked into the house.

 


End file.
